Halloween
by aya-kun.zeroaddicted
Summary: It's All Hallows' Eve and the dead robins society have a problem they can only try to ignore...


For Jason, having people dressed up as zombies was more than just an irritation. Sure, it was an insult when he was called that and a half hearted joke when he called himself one of the living dead. But Halloween…really all hallows eve was a waking nightmare for him. Bloody bodies walking around casually…if it weren't for the walking bedsheets, princesses and superheroes walking along with them, he'd have felt like he'd walked into one of his own nightmares.

As it was he couldn't just stay at home when criminals used the festivities for their own nefarious games.

Beating up thugs and shooting to maim runaway dealers help distract him from the even worse truth that happened at times like these. He wished now that magic wasn't real. That the world would only have aliens and scientifically proven facts as truth.

Taking a smoke break atop someone's rooftop, he didn't notice it at first. Thinking his exhaled smoke was just being blown around him.

Even though there wasn't much wind.

 _Shit_.

Jason just stared straight ahead. He was just going to finish the stick, act like he didn't see it and then leave. If he was already able to see one of them then that meant everything else was going to be coming out. He was glad patrol would soon end and then he could just turn in and drink some of the pumpkin spice latte Alfred had taught him to make.

Sighing through his exhale, Jason pointedly refused to shiver as the smoke formed next to him. Damn but he really hated Halloween. He wasn't a magician or John Constantine. He wouldn't be able to deal any pain to the floating undead souls that seemed to always think he was one of them.

He hated it. He wasn't dead anymore. And he didn't need the reminder that he once was. Seeing his family and how they had looked at him before and on rare occasions, sometimes still did (as a ghost, as a zombie, as a monster) was more than enough. Even though it had been years now since his return.

Ever since his pact with Grayson on not killing, they'd grown less leery of him. That he'd slowly started to shut down his drug empire made them more willing to work with him. And it had been fun to see the assholes scramble from the sudden raids, the missing shipments, the lack of protection he had provided. If certain persons though had ended up missing instead of imprisoned, it wasn't questioned much. They were the ones who'd broken the Red Hood's rules even before the vigilante had started wearing the bat symbol. The family hadn't found any evidence of his being the cause so they couldn't call on his failure to follow the pact.

He hadn't broken it at all. The pact only ever included Gotham.

He was glad they'd run. After all, souls tended to stay where they'd been ended.

Putting out his finished cigarette, Jason left the spirit of a girl who had stood beside him. Had he looked back he'd have had an even worse night when the girl jumped off and fell, a silent cry on her lips.

* * *

For Damian, seeing people playing pretend had been an interesting view…up until he saw one child similarly dressed in his colors but with the fashion of his mentor. How Grayson and even Todd were able to wear such impractical clothing still escaped him.

He was on patrol with his older brothers. Grayson as Nightwing (his father being in Gotham for the evening but patrolling the other end of the city) and Drake having come upon them on his route. The older teen was still irritating to him but he'd become tolerable enough through the years (he'd grown less jealous and begrudgingly held Tim with high regard for his talents and really, he only verbally sparred with him out of habit. Never will he admit to his liking his brother. Todd was easier to bear as he'd grown enough to know that he actually understood the man more than any other of his family members).

Ignoring them now as he stood over the edge of a roof, he looked down at the fake Robin and sneered at the costume. It was while his brothers were talking that Damian grew distracted from his criticizing the people below. A sudden chill in the air had enveloped the area in which he stood.

 _As Todd would probably say, Shit_.

The night had been going so well. Patrol was going to end in two hours. Why did they have to come out now?

Casually pulling his cape around him and ignoring the drop in temperature, he headed for his brothers.

"Tt. Aren't you done talking yet? We've other locations to visit still."

Grayson looked at him. The muscles around his mask letting Damian know that he'd raised his eyebrow.

"Eager for a fight, demon?"

Damian scoffed at Drake. "It is only that watching these fake Robins is irritating and the pathetic excuse for the uniform is insulting to see. _And_ a waste of time. Return to your route, Red Robin. We will go back to ours."

Tim only rolled his eyes before waving goodbye at Nightwing who returned the gesture before following Damian across the rooftops.

As Nightwing wondered at his brother's not entirely out of character but still abrupt wish to leave, Robin gave a short side glance back where they'd stood. He turned away quickly enough that the gathering of spirits didn't see him looking.

He'd learned enough to know that if he ignored them they wouldn't know that he could see them.

This was a lesson he'd learned while with Todd one night on patrol a couple Halloweens ago, the one after his resurrection.

 _We died. It attracts them. Make sure they don't know you can see them or they won't leave you alone._

Damian wished the night would end sooner. Zatanna had assured him that nights like these were rare and Halloween was just special in that it was guaranteed to happen one night a year.

* * *

For Stephanie, she made it a point to only look at the people playing princesses or superheroes. Excepting the zombie she'd rescued from a man dressed in black wearing a plastic monster mask (so unoriginal she had to roll her eyes).

Patrol was eventful enough but nothing drastic like last year's breakout of monstrous men…in prison suits.

Steph shuddered in remembrance. It had particularly been difficult enough with the number of people who broke out of prison, the citizens who'd stayed up late and were still out and about were another (one shouldn't really party in Gotham really late and head home alone. Like seriously? They live in Gotham how stupid can they still be?).

Cass stood next to her as they surveyed a nearby bank, making sure they weren't any robberies or any suspicious people about. Hearing and seeing nothing, they moved on to the next building on their route.

Steph nearly let go her grappling gun as she flew threw white smoke. Smoke that made her very bones freeze.

 _Oh shit._

Gasping when she landed, she tried to be casual as she stiffly walked towards Cass who met her halfway. Her head was tilted in question and her hand was on her arm in worry.

Steph shook her head almost imperceptibly. She was glad Cass said nothing. But she just needed to do like Jason told her. Pretend.

Sneaking a look out of the corner of her eyes, using her hair as cover while fiddled with her belt, she saw the spirit hesitate and then float away.

Looking at Cass who had surveyed the area while she pulled herself together, her friend nodded towards the next building. Glad to be leaving, she launched herself into the air, Cass following behind to make sure she was okay.

She knew Cass wouldn't ask and she (with the others) already suspected she knew. And boy was she glad to have people she can be with during nights like these.

Landing on the rooftop, Steph sighed. "I hate Halloween. They take the fun out of it."

Cass patted her shoulder. "Rare nights. It will be okay."

 _She knows._

Hugging Cass, she smiled and returned her mindset to the job. Patrol was almost over anyway.

Maybe she could drag Dami later on to Jason's, Cass in tow. He was sure to have delicious pumpkin spice on hand. Next to Alfred, Jason was a wiz in the kitchen.

* * *

Happy Halloween◥(ฅº￦ºฅ)◤

No beta. written in a hurry. sorry if it sux.


End file.
